


Schrödinger’s Relationship

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Biting, Dom Spencer Reid, Exhibitionism, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Hair-pulling, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Infidelity, Jealousy, Love Confessions, Marking, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, brat reader, sub Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24531568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: Reader finds out Spencer has been dating a kind and cute woman (when he’s not spending the night at her house).
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter One

The day I met Spencer Reid felt like a dream.

I had just moved to the area, and on my very first shift I got to meet so many interesting people, including a team of FBI agents that apparently regularly frequented the bar. Most of them were sweet, if not a bit distracted with each other.

But Spencer was different. Don’t get me wrong - he was _always_ distracted… by me.

Before I go any further with this story, I have to say that I thought this man is _not_ my type. He seemed so goofy, scrawny, and sweet. He even showed me a magic trick once. Who does that?

The nights at the bar were always so much more fun when he was there. Something about him was so alluring and comforting. Maybe that’s why when he would wait for me to leave after closing, it never felt creepy. He would wave to me with a look in his eyes that begged me to leave with him, instead.

One night I did. We didn’t get as far as his place though. We barely made it back to the car. I thought this man wasn’t my type. I was so, so wrong.

Within seconds of expressing my interest, he had me backed against my car, his hands laced through my hair with his leg wedged between mine. The way he kissed me knocked the breath from my lungs.

He feverishly kissed me, like he had been waiting years to kiss me instead of the few months it had actually been. He ravaged my body, mind, and soul that night. I was _ruined_.

Ever since that night, I’ve been addicted to the touch of Spencer Reid. Each time he walks into the bar, I can feel the way my heart pulls me to him like the sun pulls the Earth. When I told him that he reminded me that those two celestial bodies are still 92,469,000 miles apart.

He felt that far sometimes.

Some nights when he would fuck me he would slip out into the night before I could even manage to thank him.

Other nights were actually mornings, where I would hold him until reality ripped us apart.

We never talked about it.

Quantum superposition determines that our relationship is both real and nonexistent. Reality dictates that it is one or the other. We won’t know until one of us looks into the box.

My time with Spencer Reid has been the most amazing dream. Today, it was a nightmare.

I wasn’t supposed to work tonight; I got the call that my friend had to call out literally an hour before my shift. Thankfully, I was already dressed to go out with friends, so I didn’t have a time crunch to get ready.

Unfortunately, it also meant that I was wearing my night out make up, _not_ my work look. Oh well. It was a Wednesday night, so it shouldn’t be too many belligerent men.

After about an hour on the job I was swamped. Apparently there was some big event happening on the base, so Marines were stumbling in and out. Eventually I put together that I’m pretty sure my friend was not, in fact, sick, and just knew better than to come in.

Believe it or not, he wasn’t the biggest asshole of the night. As I poured three simultaneous drinks, I saw someone enter the back of the bar out of the corner of my eye. It was one of the servers, and she looked incredibly nervous.

“What’s up, Jenny? I’m kind of busy,” I sighed, realizing that she probably needed my help with something.

No dice. It was much, much worse.

“Umm… I just thought you should know…” She was taking too long, and I had already doled out the drinks, turning to rearrange the liquor bottles on the shelf.

“Just say it,” I seethed, taking out my rage in a very unfair way.

“Spencer’s here.”

Oh. Well that was good news! Why was she scared to tell me that? I excitedly turned to look at the hostess station, easily spotting that tall, goofy motherfucker within seconds.

And there he was. With another girl. On his arm. At my bar.

“That **stupid, slimy little piece of _fuckin’ shit_** — Jenny! Man the bar for a second,” I all but yelled, storming out from behind the bar with every muscle in my body clenched.

Spencer didn’t see me, too fixated on the girl on his arm. I tried to take a deep breath and look like a normal person before I was right in front of them.

“Dr. Reid,” I greeted as cheerily as possible for words said through teeth. “How _nice_ to see you.”

The look on his face was one of pure horror. But he shouldn’t be scared. Not yet. He doesn’t even know what to be scared of yet.

“Hi, I’m—” I began to greet the girl, holding out my hand, which she happily took with a smile. “(Y/n)!” She chirped, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I looked at Spencer with daggers in my eyes. I watched his Adam’s apple bob.

“Oh?” My voice raised nearly an octave.

“Yeah, the team always talks about how you make the best drinks. And give the best advice.” I could barely hear what this poor girl was saying to me, I was too busy trying to telepathically tell the man next to her that I was going to fucking **castrate him**.

“Spence talked about this place so much, I’m so glad we finally get to come together.” A muscle in my cheek twitched as I tried to keep my customer service smile on.

“That’s _so_ nice that _Spence_ talks about **us** , everyone here, at the bar. So what, is this your first date?” I clenched my hands together to make the trembling rage less noticeable.

“Oh, we’ve actually been out a few times. We got set up on a blind date early last month. Can you believe that?”

Craning my neck to turn to look at him, my eyes widened just a smidge. “I **cannot** believe that. Wow, _Spence_. I had no idea you were such a _Casanova_.”

He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets without removing the other person from his arm. I motioned to the dining room, notably the empty seats by one end of the bar.

“Please, sit wherever you’d like. Spencer knows _all_ the best hidden spots.” The smile on my face was masking the secret we shared; the fact that on at least one late night after closing, me and him hadn’t even made it out of the building before we had to have each other.

When she looked away, my smile fell, finally letting Spencer see the full, unadulterated loathing I felt for him right now. He looked like he wanted to defend himself, but I didn’t want to hear it. So I left.

… and stalked them from the bar. Jenny was totally peeved but understanding when I returned. She was looking at me with pity, which was reason number 4 that I currently hated Spencer Reid.

He purposefully chose a spot he could look at me and kept doing exactly that. My blood boiled as I continued to pour drinks, trying my hardest to look like I was enjoying the booze filled company of douchebags.

But I wasn’t. It hurt. He fucking hurt me.

I hadn’t looked at him for awhile, which was a bad idea. Because the next time I did, he was directly in front of the bar.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” his voice hushed like it was a secret. His date must be in the bathroom, because I don’t see her anywhere.

“I’m not supposed to be here?!” I yelled back, not even trying to whisper. “Spencer, I fucking work here.”

His jaw twitched as he bit his tongue; I rolled my eyes as his voice shook, “Not on Wednesdays, you don’t.”

I leaned over the bar, my eyes narrowed as my voice matched his tone. “So sorry to inconvenience your date with your Pollyanna ass girlfriend, you **two timing fuck.** ”

“She’s not—“

I slammed the cup I was holding on the bar, “Does she know? Where your mouth has been in the past few days? Did you tell her how you fucked me until I was sore because you said you hadn’t stopped thinking about me in days? Does little miss sweetheart know how _bad_ her lil boyfriend likes it?”

Spencer’s chest heaved with anger that I know I sure as hell didn’t deserve. I mean, honestly. He knew this wasn’t a good argument or excuse. “She’s not my girlfriend, (y/n). And neither are you.”

Like an animal, as most men are, he had been cornered and lashed out. It’s like the way he was talking, he wanted me to get angry. He wanted me to do something. To hate him.

I hated myself for not being able to. I didn’t hate him.

“Get the fuck off my bar, Spencer, or I swear to god I will throw neon green Absinthe all over your cute little pink shirt.”

Spencer lifted his hands from the bar but didn’t leave. He closed his eyes like what was happening in front of him was too much. It certainly felt that way to me.

“Please, (y/n). Let me explain.” Those coffee colored eyes sank into my soul, coaxing some warmth out of me that I hated.

“Go back to your girlfriend before your food gets there. And I hope you fucking choke on it,” my voice cracked as I continued making drinks, hearing the other patrons starting to get annoyed.

I jumped at contact, his hand gently brushing against my arm. Goosebumps rippled across my skin; he always had this effect on me.

“Please. I’ll come to your place after you get off work.”

His touch was like a fucking drug, and I’m an idiot. I want to hear his explanation. I want him to hold me. I want him to kiss me. I want to hate him, but I don’t.

“Fine. Now fuck off.” A small blush crept up to my face at his smile, the way he seemed so pleased at the fact he would get to see me.

“You look pretty tonight,” he said with a genuine softness. But now that he wasn’t touching me, my senses were finally back.

Holding up the seltzer tap hose, I aimed it directly at his face. “Don’t test me, motherfucker.”

He laughed as he nearly jumped back, bumping into several people. I tried not to let him see my smile. Of course, it was gone a few seconds later, anyway. I was back to watching him with her. He seemed like he was actually having a good time. A great time.

She was from his world, clearly. I could tell by how their conversation was going that she was probably smarter than me. They had more to talk about.

Am I stupid? Not in comparison to Spencer— I know everyone is. But just… is he just using me? And am I letting him? Am I hurting this girl? Am I hurting myself? It wouldn’t be the first time I fell for a bad boy or made too much of nothing.

The thoughts swirl around in my head for the next half hour, and Spencer has been looking at me far less. Calling Jenny back to the bar, I realize I desperately need to breathe. I left out the back door, leaning forward with my back to the building, I felt like I was going to puke. Today had been too much.

The door opening spooked me just a bit, mainly because I didn’t know who else would use this exit.

“Are you alright?” Spencer’s calming voice broke through my thoughts.

“I’m fine.” I lied. He knew it wasn’t true.

He stood an awkward distance away from me, and I closed my eyes. I knew why he was out here, but I didn’t want to talk about it. I just wanted him to leave.

“I don’t think I should come over tonight.”

I’m surprised I didn’t draw blood from my tongue from how hard I was biting it. Can’t he just make up his stupid fucking mind?

“Fine,” I replied, digging through my apron to hopefully find a cigarette, or anything to calm me down. Of course not. 

“Is it fine, though?” He pressed, which made me absolutely lose my fucking mind.

“Of course it’s not fucking fine, Spencer. What the fuck is wrong with you?! What do you **want** from me?!”

His voice as well, his hands left his pockets as he closed in on me, “Hate me! I want you to hate me!”

“Well I **don’t**!” My reply crushed my lungs and my heart. Silence fell between us, but it was a tense, harsh kind. My eyes swelled with tears that stung Spencer just as hard.

It didn’t take long for him to press me against the brick wall of the bar, his mouth covering mine in a crushing, overwhelming kiss. Messing up my hair in seconds, he kissed me like he had the first time. Like his life depended on it.

I kissed him back, but only until I remembered the girl sitting inside and the fact that he had _literally just tried to break up with me_ (his “ **not** girlfriend”). I shoved him off of me roughly.

“ **God** , Spencer!” I yelled, wiping my mouth and under my eyes, trying not to ruin my make-up.

“Make up your fucking mind, or don’t ever fucking talk to me again.”

I didn’t wait to hear his response, or even look him in the face. I rushed back to the bar, fixing my hair haphazardly as I slipped back into my routine.

He didn’t seem phased when he returned to his girlfriend, and I was done watching them. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my jealousy. But I know he can still feel it.

The patrons at the bar were annoyed with me, but it was so hard to focus. One particularly insistent man had seen most of what happened with Spencer and kept trying to promise to make it better. Pass.

But I had to be nice, so I was. On my next trip to the kitchen, I passed by him again.

“Hey sweetheart,” he slurred, grabbing onto my arm with enough force to cause me to wince. But that was nothing compared to the way he pulled me towards him, his other hand sliding all the way up my skirt and sliding underneath my underwear, grabbing my backside hard enough to sting.

It all happened so fast; I could barely believe it had happened at all. I was frozen until I wasn’t, and without thinking I’d brought my hand down on his face, the slap resounding throughout the immediate area.

The next thing everyone heard was his voice growling, “You prude bitch!” Followed quickly by the last sound I heard, of me crashing onto a table behind me after his fist made contact with my face.

My head was killing me, the darkness a welcome embrace following the sharp sound of cracking and the pain throbbing at my temples. Still, I felt my body leave the ground, pulled up by my hair. I could smell alcohol on their body, and I tried to remember why.

“ ** _Get your fucking hands off of her!_** ” The voice sounded so familiar. It took me a moment to remember that it was Spencer’s voice, and just as I did, I saw him rushing over, fully ready to body check the man holding me up.

Instinctively, the drunkard dropped me, raising his arms to defend himself as Spencer collided into him.

Suddenly, it came back to me. I was in the bar and had just been assaulted. In front of Spencer. On a date. With another girl. I’m gonna be sick.

People were grabbing me, pulling me away from the two men now throwing _committed_ punches at each other against the bar.

I tried to force myself up, but my hand made contact with broken glass. I scrambled around in the mess, looking back up to see the patron had grabbed a beer bottle, currently aiming it at Spencer’s head.

“Spencer!” It wasn’t my voice. It was the other girl. She ran over, and almost distracted him enough to get hit. But instead, the beer bottle crashed onto the bar as he missed, shattering on impact.

Sirens were fast approaching, and I did not want to be here to find out what would happen. I didn’t want to talk to them. I didn’t want to do any of this. I know girls like me aren’t believed.

Despite the pain and worried onlookers, I stood up. Just in time for Spencer to overpower the man, twisting his arms behind his back as he screamed the ever-familiar Miranda rights, cuffing the still agitated, but drunk, man.

At least he was safe. The police entered the front entrance just in time for me to run out the back. I didn’t even get my purse. Bolting into my car and bee-lining it straight home, I somehow made it all the way there before the tears started to fall.

I slammed my door shut, leaning my back against it as I cried into my hands, ignoring the sharp pain of glass cuts in my palm and a clearly fractured bone in my face.

Realistically, I know I have to go to the hospital. I have to talk to the police. I’m probably gonna have to go to court. I don’t want to.

I’m crying because more than anything, I just want Spencer to come hold me and tell me it’s going to be alright.

But he didn’t.

After an hour of crying like this, I gave in to the crushing reality of my situation. I managed to halfway change my clothes and drag myself to the hospital, where I stayed for the better part of the day. Spencer never came. Part of me was glad.

It wasn’t healthy, what we were doing. And if he came to me now, what use would I be to him? The swelling in my face was very much _not_ attractive. All I had been to him was a problem. A stupid, troubled girl to warm his bed at night. What would he ever want from someone like me?

I took a few weeks off work, wondering if I should really just quit. I sat in my apartment by myself, reminding myself that I would recognize myself in the mirror again soon.

I _really_ missed Spencer.

But tonight he was probably on the other side of the world, literally or figuratively. Or he was with his girlfriend. I wonder if that’s why he never came. Did he make up his mind and make it official with her? I could see why he would. She’s friends with his team and doesn’t get him in nearly as much trouble.

**_Knock. Knock. Knock._ **

I jumped at the sound, turning to my door to make sure it was directed to me.

**_Knock. Knock._ **

Definitely my door. I got up cautiously and quietly, sneaking over to peer out the peep hole. It was Spencer. My breath got shallower, and with some kind of sixth sense, he heard it.

“(Y/n)?” He looked about as bad as I did, bruising on his face and stitches on his forehead. I didn’t realize he got so messed up.

“Go away.” The words were forced, but still quiet. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Please. I owe you an explanation. You deserve one.” That was the understatement of the fucking year.

Slowly, I opened the door enough to peer out into the hallway where he stood. I didn’t want him to see how fucked up my face was, but it was kind of hard to miss.

“It’s a little too late for that, Spencer.” I mumbled, and he looked at his watch. “You know I’m not talking about the fucking time,” I preemptively replied.

“I wasn’t allowed to come any sooner. I’m not supposed to be here now.”

What? My defenses were quickly beginning to fall, and I allowed my door to open. He hesitated for a second before walking in, shutting the door behind himself.

“Where have you been?” My voice crackled.

“For a little while I was handcuffed to a hospital bed, but then I got moved into an interrogation room. Then I was just trapped in my apartment by my team for a couple days. At that point… I was scared you wouldn’t want to see me.”

“Well, your fears are true.”

It wasn’t true at all, I just didn’t want to handle all this information. I didn’t want to look at his face and remember I’ve been so angry with the one person who tried his hardest to defend me.

“The time alone has given me a lot of time to think about things… and I really think we need to talk about it.” He sounded so hurt, and I didn’t want to know why. My chest burned with bile and sadness that I wished I could keep swallowing forever.

I crossed my arms, careful not to put too much pressure on my bandaged hand. He stepped forward, pressing down on my arm like he was asking me to put down my walls for a moment.

I couldn’t look at him. “If you’re going to break up with me, then just do it.”

His features softened, and he realized I wasn’t going to lower my arms any time soon. So instead, he used them to pull us closer together, my face gently bumping into his chest.

“I wanted to tell you I’m an idiot. And I’m sorry.” I could see the way I know his nose is twitching as he frowns in my head, despite not looking up at him. My arms were no longer between us, falling to my side before tentatively wrapping around him.

“You are an idiot,” I grumbled in reply, causing him to softly chuckle with me. He pulled away, using his finger to tilt my face up to him as he tried to come up with something to say.

He took a deep breath, then finally spoke. “Everyone… Everyone told me you weren’t right for me. They kept telling me that you wouldn’t want to deal with all of my problems. That you wouldn’t be happy with the things that I want.”

My face warped into a pained frown. Hearing that the people I honestly was beginning to consider friends thought I wouldn’t love Spencer for _exactly_ who he is hurt more than I expected.

“Spencer,” I stopped him, “that’s stupid.”

He laughed, rubbing his face to control the emotions bleeding through his features. “I know.”

“Do you honestly believe that? That I would be chased away by a brief prison stint and some baggage? Spencer, that’s basically half of my ex-boyfriends.” It was mostly a joke, and he luckily took it as such. He would never ask for it, but I felt the need for reassurance emanating from him.

“I like _you_ , Spencer.” I ran my hand through his hair and watched the way he followed my touch, trying to make it last as long as possible. “What’s there not to like?”

“So many things,” he replied, his tone serious and unforgiving.

“I wholeheartedly disagree.” I pouted, continuing to mess with his hair. “What I see in front of me is a man who would do anything to protect the people he cares about. He is strong, kind, and brilliant.”

He took my hand in his, holding it to his chest as he gave a sad smile, still struggling to accept the words. “… He’s also pretty easy on the eyes. Even when he’s got bruises all over his face.”

“You should’ve seen the other guy,” he ever so humbly bragged, and I rolled my eyes, pulling on our hands to lead us further into my apartment, tired of standing at the door.

Once we settled on the couch, though, I remembered what set these events in motion.

“Wait, what about…”

Spencer winced. “Ah. Well, she kind of figured it out pretty quickly. I’d say I broke things off, but she was the one who insisted first. And she realized that’s why I never wanted to bring her there… Turns out I talked about you too much to be just friends.”

My face flushed, which was the first time I remembered how much pain I was still in. Never during this whole interaction did he make me feel ugly about the black and blue and dried blood. He always made me feel beautiful.

“Well…” I started, reaching over to grab his hand, bringing it over my shoulder as I moved closer. “I’m glad.”

We sat in the comfortable silence, just enjoying the way it felt to be closer to one another again. I replayed his words in my mind as I looked up at him, and he noticed me noticing him.

“By the way, what did you mean?” I finally asked, my eyes full of curiosity and hope. “What are the things that you want?”

Spencer cleared his throat, suddenly bashful. He covered his mouth, refusing to look at me. “N-nothing.”

I grabbed his hand, yanking it off his face as I crawled on top of him, narrowing my eyes to inspect his now beet-red face more carefully.

“Spit it out or I’ll make you. You know I could kick your ass.”

He laughed, his hands settling on my hips and his eyes narrowing back. Sometimes I wondered if he could really read minds.

“Domestic life,” he finally anti-climactically admitted. I couldn’t help but laugh, the happiness bubbling through my chest and out my mouth.

“You know. White picket fences, baseball, a wife that loves me just as much as she loves our kids.”

My initial reaction only got softer and brighter, the mental image of a happy Spencer holding a small child overloading my brain.

“Hopefully she looks a lot like you,” he nervously chuckled.

He was too precious, I honestly thought I might scream. Wanting to prolong this gentle expression of love for as long as I could, I channeled those emotions into my lips as I pressed them on the tip of his nose, then both of his cheeks.

Tilting his head to make me land the next on his lips, I happily indulged him. Our lips were warm, but our hearts were on fire. It was an explanation and understanding.

“That sounds like the dream,” I sighed. But it wasn’t. This was real.

Schrödinger’s Cat was alive, and Spencer Reid was mine. He was mine to touch, to hold, to love. He was the one I could cry to and laugh with.

Our futures flashed before our eyes as something we could look forward to forever. Because I would never, ever let him go, and I trusted he would do the same.


	2. Chapter Two

I had always hated that scene in the movies where the protagonist does something slightly strange, and suddenly every single person in the room is staring at them. I’d always think to myself, that’s so dramatic - there’s no way _every single person_ in the room would bother to divert their attention from their own lives for something so small. It was completely unrealistic.

Well, it turned out I was wrong.

There were dozens of people in the room, but I immediately recognized the ones who also happened to frequent the bar I worked at. It was his team, and all of their gazes were focused directly on me.

I tried to convince myself that it was my abnormal attire that struck their attention. After all, I’m sure none of them pictured their bartender, whom they were used to seeing dressed in our standard all-black uniform, would show up at their workplace in a well-fitted maroon cocktail dress.

Their reaction told me everything I needed to know; they saw me as a bartender first, and a person second. They didn’t see me as Spencer’s girlfriend, period.

But I was.

Which is why I held my head high as he escorted me through the room on his arm, never once looking like I didn’t belong here. Because I did. I was Spencer’s girlfriend, and I had been invited here.

It was the first time he’d brought me to a work event, and the first time I’d ever been inside the building. It wasn’t the bullpen— just some strange collection of suites. Still, it was a big deal for us.

When I glanced over at him to make sure that he didn’t feel as awkward as I did, all I saw was an intense pride and happiness on his face. Sadly, it didn’t make it any less weird for me.

His team immediately addressed us, with only a little bit of discomfort in their greetings. We didn’t stay to let it stew. I was sure Spencer hadn’t told them that he had confessed to me that they didn’t think very highly of our relationship, or me, for that matter. But he had. And I knew.

I tried not to resent them for it - I really did. It didn’t work. It’s hard to forgive strangers who judge you based on some stereotypical assumptions based on your career and the little bit they’d bothered to learn about you. It’s even harder when you thought they were your friends.

For Spencer’s sake, I wouldn’t mind pretending. For a few hours, I could pretend like they hadn’t told Spencer about how my history suggests I wouldn’t be able to handle the high-stress, lonely existence that comes with dating an FBI agent.

It was all fucking bullshit. 

The frustration must have been as obvious as it felt, because as soon as we finished the first rounds of introductions, he led me to a slightly secluded corner, blocking my view of everyone else so I was forced to only focus on what he had to say.

His hand came to rest on my shoulder, running a soothing hand down my arms that were crossed angrily over my chest.

“We can leave if you want,” he offered, flashing me an understanding, pitying glance that I definitely didn’t want directed at me. 

“I’m fine.”

It was, by far, the least convincing thing I’ve ever said. And Spencer wasn’t buying it, laughing as he shook his head at my stubbornness.

“You’re clearly uncomfortable.”

All I could do was huff, swiping his wine glass out of his hand and downing half the contents before he could even put his hand back in his pockets. “God, dating a profiler is annoying.”

“You don’t have to be a profiler to see that you’re uncomfortable.”

He wasn’t wrong, but he was still severely underestimating how little the men I’d met before him actually cared about my emotions. Even when I outright told them how I felt, they still didn’t get it. “You say that, but other men are very stupid.”

“Not me though?” He asked with the tiniest grin, subconsciously swaying closer to me as he spoke. I pushed him back, trying to maintain a _respectable_ distance while we were around his work friends.

It was so much harder than I thought it would be. Something about him just always made me want to jump his fucking scrawny ass.

“You’re borderline,” I warned, sipping on the wine like the red liquid in the glass might hide the blush forming on my face as my mind filled with completely inappropriate thoughts.

“I’m honored.”

Leaning down, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead before taking a step back, lowering his voice a bit more like what he had to say was private. “Well hey, if you don’t want to leave, would you mind if I took off for a second?”

“Why?” I asked, my eyes immediately narrowing, “Where are you going?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and turning to look more out the door than at me. I’m not a profiler, but he was either lying, or hiding some piece of information from me. I had a feeling it was the latter, and the reason he didn’t want to tell me was because he thought it involved me.

“Someone asked me to check something. They told me it was urgent.”

“How urgent can it really be if everyone else is here?” I returned, my grip on the glass tightening just a smidge. Spencer and his stupid eagle profiler eyes still saw it, though.

“I don’t have to go.”

I hated when he did that. He was obviously trying to cater to my feelings, and it should have been charming and sweet. But the independent streak in me _hated_ it. I didn’t want him to think I needed him to follow me around a party. I was a grown up.

Besides, it would be way worse if I got in the way of his work. They already didn’t trust me.

“No, it’s fine. You’re right. Go… save the world, or whatever, genius.”

“I love you.” His voice dropped to that low, hushed register he only really ever used in the bedroom. This man would be the death of me. He was really over here in a room full of people who _already didn’t like me_ , trying to seduce me. **And it was working**.

“Mmhmm. Whatever. Hurry up so you can get back here faster.”

He put his hand on the small of my back, pulling me closer in a way that was clearly meant to elicit a kiss. I denied him, shoving his whole body away as he laughed.

He started to retreat, and I spoke just loud enough that he could hear me from a few feet away, pointing an accusing finger as I spoke, “You better be faster than the speed of light, Spencer Reid!”

“That’s not physically possible!” He yelled back with a grin. Once the door shut, I swore I felt a chill run down my spine. I had no idea how long it was going to take him, or what I was supposed to do in the meantime.

As I scanned the room, I noticed JJ and Penelope, two people I’d considered closest to me, were already watching me.

I reasoned with myself that they were probably just looking at me because I’d just half shouted at Spencer as he left, but something inside told me that they had already been watching me before that.

At first, I considered just ignoring it and taking a seat with some random person that’s not even on their team until Spencer came back, but then Penelope just _had_ to wave at me.

Swallowing my pride and sense of self-preservation, I reluctantly walked over to the two women.

“Hey,” I said with a sigh, “It’s… been awhile.”

Penelope just brought her cup to her lips with both hands, clearly trying to avoid talking. I knew that I made them all uncomfortable, and the fact only made me feel worse.

It sucked.

“Yeah, we haven’t had a night off in a while.” JJ responded, tapping her fingers on the side of her glass and avoiding meeting my eyes.

“That blows.”

“It seriously does,” Penelope finally spoke, but only to be followed by an _incredibly_ awkward silence. 

Luckily, Penelope was much less comfortable with standing quietly, so she eventually found a new topic to discuss. “What a pretty dress! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of your uniform.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what happens when you only talk to someone at work.” If my voice didn’t give me away, the fake smile on my face certainly did.

I almost felt bad about the way her mouth clamped shut. Almost.

“So has anything interesting happened since last time?” JJ asked, and I didn’t miss the way she clenched her jaw as she raised her own glass to her lips.

“You mean, since the last time you saw me, or just after you sent my boyfriend to my bar with Miss America?”

The tension in the room skyrocketed, and I swear FBI agents must have a sixth fucking sense for drama, because before I knew it more eyes were falling on us.

“You know, no one forced him to say yes to the date. So… Is it just me or does it sound like he wasn’t really your boyfriend?”

I’ll give it to JJ, of all the women I had engaged in a verbal catfight, I knew she would be the one least likely to back down. _Especially_ when it came to Spencer. Her eyes were now dead set on mine, and I was shocked my glass hadn’t shattered under my white knuckled grip.

“It’s funny _you’re_ questioning _my_ relationship with him. I mean, it’s not like I was throwing myself at him while I was married or anything.” 

JJ’s mouth flattened into a straight line, her entire stance shifting into a far more aggressive position. The look in her eyes told me that she was running through the many words she wanted to share with me. She never got to them, though.

“Is there a problem here?” Emily had stepped between the two of us, staring down at me, and her demeanor told me I should be scared. But the truth was, I wasn’t.

It might be naive of me, and probably a little fucked up, but I didn’t really care about how they viewed me right now. I probably shouldn’t have had any drinks once I got here.

“I think I’m in danger.” Penelope muttered, earning a bitter laugh from me.

“Oh, what the fuck am I going to do to you, huh? Poison your drink?” I gestured vaguely to the cup she still gripped with both hands.

“What is your _problem_?” JJ pushed past Emily again, both of them confronting me with that textbook protective nature I’d seen.

I snorted as I asked, “Right now? Or just in general?”

I had a lot of problems at the moment, and while I was perfectly happy to get into them, I had a feeling they wouldn’t like how it ended up. After all, I’m the person they talk to when their defenses are at their lowest.

“I think it would be best if we all just took a step back.” Emily’s voice would have been soothing, but right now all I could hear were nails on a shitty, backstabbing chalkboard.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Penelope was trying to keep the peace.

I wasn’t.

“I’m allowed to be here.”

“No one is saying you aren’t.” The way Emily slowed her words, drawing out the vowels made my blood boil. Did she think I didn’t know what she was doing? I was dating Spencer fucking Reid.

“Don’t use your negotiator voice on me. I’m not a fucking criminal.”

The air was bristling with hostility, and at this point even the calmest of them (which was _definitely_ Penelope) was reaching peak anxiety. I could feel the eyes of the crowd shifting over to what might be classified as a more _distinguished_ cat fight in the middle of the room.

“Where did Reid go?” Penelope piped in again, and I shrugged without ever breaking eye contact with Emily. “Fuck if I know. This is my first time in this building.”

“…Maybe we should go find him? I can come with you.”

“Why?” I said, turning to her with a small fake pout, “So he can make me stop being mean to you?”

She looked like a perfect mix of astonished and offended, like it was that hard to believe I would talk back to her. It’s funny, they always loved my ‘spunk’ when it wasn’t aimed at them. Well, at least I thought they did. But evidently, they didn’t, since they immediately used it as ammunition against me.

“Hey—” Emily started, but I held a hand up to her face. 

“He’s not my keeper, and you’re not my boss.”

“We don’t want to be your boss!” Penelope’s raised voice actually did earn my attention, with my eyebrows jumping as I laughed at this sight. “We’re just trying to be your friend, but you’re making it super difficult for like, no reason!”

“My _friend_? You’ve got to be kidding. **_No reason_**? A couple weeks ago you were telling Spencer how he should dump me. That’s not _friends_ , Penelope.”

Apparently, I’d struck a nerve, or Penelope was just finally fed up with the fake nice act. Because now she wasn’t even trying to be civil, waving her hand in the air as she shouted, “I never told him to break up with you! First of all, you weren’t even dating, and I was just—“

But that was okay. Because whether or not it made any sense, I knew they were all intimidated by me. It was pretty funny, considering Spencer practically considered them family. Then again, he had decided to be with me against all their wishes.

“Hush.” I ordered, and I was only a little surprised that she actually listened. Setting the glass on the table beside us, I assumed my own aggressive stance before I closed some of the space between us.

“I know you’re used to knowing everything and you _love_ to meddle, but you have no idea what’s best for Spencer.” I laughed, running my hands over my hips as I spoke, “Cause your _precious little innocent baby boy_ has some _dirty_ secrets.”

If my overt sexuality bothered them, I’m sure the rest of what I had to say wasn’t going to be much better. JJ had a smug smirk on her face as I’m sure I solidified all the stereotypes she had thrust upon me. The way she saw it, I was proving her point.

That was fine. I could be a bitch if that’s what they wanted. The rest of his team had started to gather, which was just truly just baffling. I mean, there was _one_ of me. What the fuck was I going to do to a bunch of trained agents with guns? Embarrass them to death?

“You know what, that actually goes for all of you.” I motioned to the rest of the peanut gallery forming an awkward circle around me. Weren’t they profilers? Did they think cornering me would help?

“I know what you **all** said about me, and it’s **_fucking bullshit_**. You don’t know me, and it sounds like you don’t know Spencer either if you think what you’re telling him is good advice.”

“It wasn’t them,” Emily interrupted, “I’m the only one who talked to Reid.”

“Really, Emily? Well that’s just fucking hilarious.” I threw my hands in the air, with this realization hitting my last goddamn nerve. “ _You_ telling Spencer I’m not a ‘good idea’? That I was ‘too much work’ for him?”

Honestly, how many times had I sat and held Spencer because of something that happened at work? Half the fucking time, it wasn’t even because of a serial killer. I’d seen firsthand how powerless they could make him feel.

“I’m not the reason he’s overworked, okay? I’m not the one who’s ‘too much.’ It’s you all. It’s your fucking team.”

“I never meant it like that—“

But she did. It didn’t matter now, anyway. It was already said. It already happened. Now they all needed to deal with the fact that I was here to stay, and I wasn’t going to put up with their holier-than-thou bullshit.

“I thought we already _were_ friends.” My voice cracked; the first sign that the emotions were getting ahead of my tongue. I looked around at all the familiar faces, hoping that the guilt on their faces was genuine. “How many times have I listened to you all? Sympathized with you? I thought you saw me as… something more than the trashy whore of a bartender!”

“Hey, leave her alone,” JJ cut in, continuing the dance between her and Emily to try and shield the other from me, “She didn’t say any of that!”

“Fuck off, JJ.” I mumbled, running a hand through my hair. Honestly, I might have been a little too rude to her earlier. However, she had made my boyfriend’s life a living hell not that long ago. I didn’t feel bad for calling out her little love confession to him.

Like, seriously, what the fuck _was_ that?

“Having this conversation here isn’t a good idea.” I was trying to ignore her, trying to take a deep breath to remind myself that these people mattered to Spencer. I couldn’t just burn all my bridges at once.

But then she said it.

“It’s only going to reflect poorly on Spence.”

“Holy shit—“ I burst out laughing, “I don’t think you’re the expert on what’s best for Spencer, _Jennifer_. I’m tired of your possessive ‘mama grizzly’ bullshit. I’m not buying it!”

Her face soured, but her eyes darted away from me, her arms crossing over her chest. I knew she wanted to say a lot more, but something was holding her back. I didn’t care what it was.

“I know how you _think_ you feel about him, but you made your decision a long time ago. Stick with it, and leave me and my boyfriend alone.” Sweeping my arm around the room to the rest of the team, who now had me fully cornered. “You all treat him like a **child**. You never want him to grow up. You never want him to change.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood, alerting me that there was someone watching me. I had a feeling I knew who it was, and that I should probably stop, but I couldn’t.

There was just one more thing I needed to say before I left this godforsaken snake den.

“You have to **stop** projecting your issues onto him. He deserves to be happy, and that’s what he is with me. So there you have it. Next time you want to talk to me, you better be leaving me a big tip at the bar, because I’m fucking over it.”

Raising both of my middle fingers in the air, I smiled as I started to back up towards the door, slipping past the two men who were too scared to stop me. I _dared_ them to touch me.

As soon as I got past them, I naturally saw the one person who I’d been worried about during the whole confrontation. Spencer stood slack jawed and mortified, staring at me without moving as I pushed past him, too.

He didn’t move for a moment, obviously trying to decide whether it was worth it to try and salvage whatever he could from his team, or if he should just give up and follow me. It’s not like he made me say anything. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

Eventually, I heard him rushing to catch up with me. I didn’t bother slowing down, knowing that he would have to essentially sprint to catch up with me at this point, with the pace I was currently keeping.

Rounding the corner, I felt a firm hand gripping my wrist, pulling me to a stop before essentially throwing me against the wall. Spencer stared at me with that vague darkness, his tongue swiping over his lip as he tried to catch his breath.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” He finally huffed, backing up just to look down the hall. I watched as the gears turned in his mind. He glanced over at the closest door, and my body rushed with a _completely_ inappropriate response.

I reached beside me, grabbing the handle and jerking it open. I could tell by the way his jaw twitched that he was biting his tongue, trying to fight the same desire I was.

“You wanna talk about it in _private_ , Spencer?” I purred, grabbing his tie that hung in front of him, pulling him down closer to me.

He didn’t answer with words, yanking my hand away from him and dragging me into the room. Inside, I noticed that it was just some random office, decked out with a couple tchotchkes and files. It looked like it hadn’t been used in weeks.

But Spencer wasn’t worried about what it looked like; he had slammed the door shut behind him and was currently backing me up against the almost completely bare desk.

“What was that about?! You can’t just… yell at the whole team in front of _everyone_!”

“Uh, yes, I can. I just did.”

He didn’t appreciate my humor, and his hand on my arm grew tighter, practically lifting me off the ground when my thighs finally made contact with the desk.

I scoffed at the way his eyes burned into me, and I tugged my hand back. “Okay. Maybe I was a bitch— whatever! They don’t get to treat me like that just because I didn’t… get a fucking doctorate or become a fucking cop!”

His hands were in his hair now, dropping down to rub his temples as he tried to think of what his next move should be.

Deciding it was best to be patient, I simply propped myself up on the desk, crossing my legs. Spencer looked at my casual posture and something in him snapped. “You just humiliated them! Don’t you feel bad?”

“They humiliated me first, so, no! I don’t!” I shouted, “And you know what? I don’t think you care as much as you’re acting like you are!”

“That’s ridiculous. Of course I care.” He ran his hand over his face, which pretty much told me everything I needed to know. “They’re practically my family!”

Spencer Reid was positively flustered. I’d only seen him like this a few times before. The one that was currently coming to mind was the time he saw me flirting with my ex-boyfriend at the bar.

That night when I got off, I didn’t find him waiting for me in his car. He had been waiting right next to the door, which I’d barely made it out of when he slammed me against the brick wall. I had fucking friction burns and tiny scrapes all over my back and arms for a _week_.

I wondered what I’d walk away with this time.

“Yeah, well, sometimes family sucks,” I said with a dismissive shrug, “They’ll be fine. I didn’t say anything that didn’t need to be said.”

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he knew I was right. I’d just saved him the problems that would have come with him saying them himself.

He was standing close enough to me now that I could reach him with one of my legs, hooking it around his thigh and urging him to come closer. He complied without a second thought, his hands quickly finding their place on the desk.

Now that he had me caged in, the power had returned to him and he seemed very pleased to realize that.

“So what’s your next move, Spencer?” I asked with a cheeky grin, “You wanna keep staring at me like that, or are you gonna man up and fuck me on this desk?”

Then he was on me, his mouth covering mine as one hand grabbed a fistful of hair, the other pressed painfully hard against my lower back. I could barely keep up with the intensity; nonetheless I tried to match it with a dark chuckle.

He yanked my head back, watching me quickly devolve into a hot mess of desire in his hands. But I didn’t just sit idly by, my hands already working to remove his slacks through pure muscle memory.

“ _Fuck._ ” Spencer muttered under his breath as I freed him from his pants. I paid it little attention, beginning to make soft strokes with one hand while I used the other to bring his mouth back to my neck.

“I love it when you’re a heartless bitch,” he slurred into the skin, drawing his tongue against my pulse. I moaned loudly at the welcome warmth, moving my thighs as he tried to shove my dress over my hips.

“I know you do.”

Once he got to my underwear, he apparently lost all patience, just yanking the soft chiffon to the side and removing my hand. It took him no time at all to line himself up and thrust into me, rattling the few contents that remained on the desk. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned, trying to hold me down against him as he set a brutal pace. “And so fucking tight.”

I raked my nails across his back, wishing that I could actually tear through the thick fabric of his blazer and leave marks across his back. The thrill of leaving secret marks on him was always there, but right now, I wanted to make my marks more… _noticeable_.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Spencer had a similar idea, because his mouth was fervently working to leave a number of bruises and marks as he dug his teeth into my collarbone.

“Fuck me like the first time,” I begged through a sob, “Fuck me like you _mean it._ ”

He didn’t treat that like a theoretical, channeling all of his anger and frustration into each movement. I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder as I practically screamed into the fabric.

But he didn’t like that, and his hand in my hair pulled me back away from him. He stared down at me as his hips continued to snap forward. His voice was more like a growl when he spoke, “Don’t be quiet. I want them all to hear you.”

His nails were digging into my hips, leaving five crescent moons in their wake. “I want them to know just how _compatible_ we are.”

Bringing his face closer to my ear as I allowed myself the freedom to moan his name, his words came through clenched teeth.

“Maybe one of them will come in to check on us and see how _pretty_ you look when your tight little cunt is wrapped around my dick.”

With those words he thrust into me so hard that I nearly fell from the table, saved only by my hands lacing through his hair.

“Fuck, Spencer!”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He cruelly grumbled, nipping at the soft skin below my jaw, “You want them to see what you do to me?”

I couldn’t answer him, my mouth completely useless as moans poured straight from my chest. Any reprieve from the low, guttural sounds was replaced with our heavy breath and the wood creaking below me.

“You make me fucking crazy.” He groaned, his hand in my hair lowering to drag scratch marks down my neck. I cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure; my body was trying to prioritize which pain to focus on.

“Show me,” I panted, my hands in a death grip on his hair as he plowed into me, trusting it was safer to hold onto him than the desk. He dragged his nose along my jaw, his thrusts harder but fewer.

Just when I thought that he was finished leaving marks, my neck aching with what I was sure were dozens of patches of petechiae, Spencer had _one_ more mark to leave.

His teeth sunk into my neck, grinding down on my throat enough that I’m certain it would require me to wear a turtleneck for a fucking _month._ I tried to be angry about it, but my body refused to allow any negative emotions.

Instead, it threw me headlong into euphoria, stars flashing before my vision as Spencer’s hands continued creating welts on any exposed skin he could reach.

My body trembled under him, my walls clenching around him tightly enough that he faltered in his thrusts. But with one final, fluid motion forward, I felt him release any pent up tension deep inside me.

When he let go of my neck, his hot, heavy breath felt cold against the abused skin.

“Jesus Christ, Spencer,” I said when I was finally able to talk, looking down to see my thighs covered in red streaks and knowing my back and neck must look even worse. “Could you have left _more_ marks?”

He just laughed, peppering gentle kisses against my jaw before whispering in my ear, “You wanted crazy.”

“Yeah, I did. Thanks.” I sounded fucking delirious, my legs still shaking when he pulled out of me, grabbing a few tissues from the box that had fallen on the floor. He didn’t hand them to me, instead taking the initiative to start to clean my legs.

I watched him for a moment, loving the way he could be so domestic, mere moments after practically mauling me.

“If only your team could see you fuck me like that,” I hummed, “Maybe then they’d understand which one of us is _really_ the feral one.”

With soft eyes and an even softer kiss, he took the time to slowly admire me as we tried to collect ourselves enough to walk back into the hallway. If I had even an ounce of modesty, I might have been worried about running into some people on the way out.

But I had no fucks left to give, especially after what had just taken place in this poor stranger’s office. Speaking of…

“This place is a disaster.” I laughed as I hopped off the desk, bending down to grab one of the many papers that had found their way to floor.

“Yeah… I’ll clean up.” He sighed, digging into his pockets and tossing me the keys to the car.

“Do you even know whose office this is?”

“Not a single fucking clue.”

It really was fucked up to laugh as hard as I did at the situation, but I couldn’t help myself. Spencer seemed to appreciate the change of pace from how we had entered the room, and he just shook his head with a smile.

“Go to the car. I’ll be right behind you. I don’t want someone to find us _both_ in here.”

I gave a fake salute as I turned around, readjusting my dress one more time before I stepped out into the hallway. However, it took me maybe 30 seconds after leaving to realize I had **no** fucking idea how to get back to the car. Why is this building laid out like this? Why are all the hallways exactly the same?

Unable to figure out which direction I was even supposed to start with, I paused, turning to inspect one of the many framed photos of men lining the walls. In the reflection of the glass, I saw just how ridiculous I looked.

Despite my best attempts to fix my hair without a mirror, it still frayed as a result of Spencer’s insistent hands. My neck was a different story entirely, more covered in red and purple dots than my actual skin tone. On the side, I noted a distinctive pink circle marked with blanched skin in the shape of Spencer’s teeth.

I chuckled to myself, trying to do something to my hair to make it more presentable, barely noticing the soft clicking of heels coming down the hall.

“… Hey (y/n).”

The perplexed, awkward way Emily spoke brought a smile to my face, and I slowly turned to face her and JJ as they stood a healthy distance away.

“Oh. Hey.” I smiled, watching as they looked around the area, clearly wondering where my escort had run off to.

“Where’s Spence?”

“He’s somewhere.” I answered vaguely, looking down at my nails to see that my fevered scratching on Spencer’s jacket had chipped the polish. Figures. 

“Didn’t you say you were leaving?” JJ asked, her tone demanding my attention once more. Bored, I stared back with as much apathy as humanly possible.

“We’re on our way out.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I heard a door shut behind me, alerting me of Spencer’s arrival to our newly formed little party. I glanced over my shoulder to him, spotting the discomfort clear on his awkward smile.

“Ready to go, babe?” I chirped, making his eyes dart back over to me. I wondered what was running through that brilliant mind, having to come to grips with the fact I was standing in front of his two coworkers covered in bruises that definitely hadn’t been there a few minutes ago.

“Yeah.” Was all he said, holding his hand out to me. Unable to help feeling smug, I happily took it, only looking back to shoot the two stunned women a playful wink.

“Bye ladies. See you at the bar.”


End file.
